


Rude Awakenings

by Eliizabethx



Category: Kingdoms of Amalur
Genre: Gen, Memory Loss, mostly vague, sort of spoiler-y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 19:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4717559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliizabethx/pseuds/Eliizabethx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fateless One awakens to her new life... It's not the most pleasant way to wake up.<br/>[Rated T for gore/swearing, if you think it's unnecessary let me know.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rude Awakenings

Dim and fuzzy, everything feels numb.

She can’t move her limbs ( _wait, “she”? Am I a she? … Yes, yes that’s right._ ) but that doesn’t trouble her for some reason, she thinks it probably should.

Her senses come back one at a time, first is taste, a foul flavor sticking to her tongue, making her want to gag. The second to come is scent, something wretched and insidious permeates the air, settling in her nose until she fears it may never leave her. Hearing is the third, she hears buzzing nearby, a swarm of something it sounds like. Then there comes touch as the fourth, she feels she is lying atop something lumpy, she thinks whatever it is may in fact be what’s smelling, it takes her a moment to realize the pressure on top of her is the same as below.

The fifth and final of her senses to return is sight, and her eyes snap open with a gasp. Turning her head side to side it takes her a moment to process what it is that she’s now seeing.

Death. She’s surrounded by death and dead, she’s laying atop a pile of dead bodies, some of them severely rotting.

She feels her emotions rush in all at once; surprise, fear, shock, horror, repulsion.

Before she even fully decides it, her arms are pushing rotting corpses away and off of her, her legs are kicking and trying to find someplace she can put her feet, when they find a place her arms and legs work in tandem to push and lift her body up and away from the dead that she had slept amongst.

She carefully but swiftly makes her way down to the floor, losing her footing on the last step she stumbles and falls towards the floor. She catches herself on hands and knees, the bones singing pain through her muscles as she feels the impact reverberate through her.

She feels disgust and alarm when she realizes she now kneels in a puddle of… Something, something vile and foul smelling.

She forces herself to her feet as quickly as she dares, her palms stinging and her knees aching. She cringes as her bare feet find themselves in the puddle again.

She moves quickly away, trying to find a space not filled with the stench of death. She breathes deeply as she takes stock of herself.

Pieces of filthy blonde hair falls into her face, her tongue carefully prods the gold ring in her lip. Her body feels strange, foreign almost, but still right. She looks down at her hands, the skin is smooth and that seems wrong somehow, her mind conjures an image of the same hands but with calluses.

She peers at the clothing she wears, an involuntary gag comes as her eyes dart away and close, she tries to settle her suddenly rolling stomach as she forces herself not to puke. The clothes she wears are torn and old, and covered in things she doesn’t want to name.

Breathing carefully she reopens her eyes as she focuses on the room she is in. It is a dimly lit room made of stone, she sees no windows and the ceiling extends far, far above her head. Her mind whispers knowledge, telling her that she’s likely under ground.

That makes her pause. How did she get here? Where is here?

She tries to think, but she finds her mind empty. There is nothing, no memories and no thoughts. Wisps of knowledge float through her head with no hint of where they came from, no idea of where she first learned them.

She panics then, not much but she can feel the anxiety. She unconsciously prods at her lip ring with her tongue. The motion feels familiar, as though she has done it countless times before, and yet she has no memory of it.

_Maeve._

It enters her mind abruptly and with no warning, she can find no indication as to where it came from but it feels… Right.

_My name, that’s my name._

She doesn’t know _how_ she knows, but she can _feel_ that it’s true.

 _Maeve, my name is Maeve. I know my name, that’s enough for now. I can figure the rest out later-_ Suddenly there is a great rumble that shakes everything, even making pieces of rock fall from the ceiling. _… After I figure out what the fuck is going on._


End file.
